


Father's Day

by punch_and_judy



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Abandonment, Alcohol / Drinking mentioned, Childhood Trauma, Cigarettes, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral sex mentioned, Regular Sex Mentioned, Smoking, Spoilers for the Balance Arc, post-Story and Song, there's no actual sex sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 18:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punch_and_judy/pseuds/punch_and_judy
Summary: It started as all good crises should: in the middle of a decadent brunch, three mimosas deep, swapping life updates and somehow, through this casual ritual, opening the door for so many thoughts and dreads and regrets to enter in as unwelcome guests at the table.





	1. -I-

Most siblings didn't schedule 11 o'clock brunches on Tuesdays during a regular work week. Most reapers didn't open a rift to the Prime Material Plane in the middle of a shift to stop by their brothers’ villas for a few hours, hanging up their cloaks upon entry and propping their sickles up against the doorframe at the perfect angle so that they wouldn't scratch the original hardwood. Most chefs did not take out their second-best powder-blue, cream-trimmed Wedgwood china for a meal with family and pile it high with paprika-sprinkled poached eggs and avocado, cherry-tomato salad dressed with the best tangy vinaigrette, all different shapes, sizes and colors of fresh berries, mountains of chewy sourdough toast slathered in butter, accompanied by a french-press with way too much coffee for two to consume, all of which were laid out ever-so-carefully and yet seemingly effortlessly, just a finger’s reach away, on a frilly, white table setting. But, then again, most siblings hadn't been separated for years and had their knowledge of each others' existence compromised indefinitely. That—coupled with the fact that they were two-sevenths of the troupe that saved the fucking world and all races, classes and creeds of Faerûn’s creatures from complete and utter annihilation—made their grandiose get-together, while for sure self-indulgent, just a little bit more permissible.

 Most siblings, suffice it to say, were not Taako and Lup.   

 The trial of their separation and each elf’s healthy sprinkling of extra-ness always propelled the twin wizards to plan their next date before the last one had finished, and as Lup removed the dirtied silverware from Taako’s plate to consolidate their brunch platters, Taako pulled a small leather-bound appointment book out from under a stack of cookbooks and junk mail that he had unceremoniously pushed to the side earlier that morning before his sister’s arrival. Nothing could fill in a calendar faster than being a savior of all existence, Taako had found out, especially while running a few small businesses and side-hustles. Unfortunately, that meant any twin-time, as much as Taako hated to admit it, needed to be penciled in with his other obligations, which he was preparing to do now as he thumbed through the months to find the upcoming week’s agenda.

 This week in particular was tough—not even tough—shot, essentially. The stack of admissions applications for the school of magic _had_ to be weeded through some time this week, he was morally obligated to go to Neverwinter to give a hoity-toity presentation to potential investors for a new scholarship fund, a meeting set up by none other than Lord Artemis Sterling, whom it wasn’t wise to piss off by flaking, and the deadline for the first chapter of his new cookbook was Friday night at 11:59 PM. Saturday was Kravitz’s day entirely, of course, leaving Sunday the only day free, minus a conference-call on the Stone of Farspeech with the Grim Reaper and Angus McDonald early on Sunday morning.

 The world’s greatest detective was on summer holiday from school, and Davenport had sought him out for some sleuthing work for a mission, the details of which neither the captain of the Starblaster nor Angus himself could suss out satisfactorily enough for Taako to feel at ease. That this was also Angus’s first serious mission without the whole Bureau of Benevolence squad to back him up fanned the flame of Taako’s anxiety. The only reason he could sleep at night at all was because Davenport had also asked for Magnus’s help, and a big meat shield like Magnus protecting his fancy boy at all times, plus the daily gentle reminders that everything was fine doled out by Kravitz and Lup, set his mind mostly at ease. Davenport had projected that the first phase of the mission would be finished late on Saturday, and everything seemed on track so far, leaving Angus enough R&R time to give a lengthy update to Taako and Kravitz about the adventure thus far on Sunday morning.

 “Sunday’s good for me,” he said as his sister placed the dishes down into a tepid pool of water collected in Taako’s kitchen sink, allowing them to soak for a few minutes before Taako would wash and dry them by hand. They were too nice and rare an antique collection, he claimed, to risk a spell misfiring (but apparently plain enough, Lup had added, to risk pure elven error). “Otherwise we’ll have to shoot for next week.” He heard Lup suck her teeth from the kitchen.

 “Can’t do Sunday,” she said, rubbing her hands on the sides of her cherry-red overalls to dry them, darkening their hue temporarily in the shape of large hand prints. Taako frowned slightly before he swallowed any residual mimosa remaining in his crystal chute.

 “Big plans?”

 “Huge,” she smirked as she grabbed the orange juice and butter dish from the table to return them to their proper places in her brother’s kitchen. “No, I’m with Barry on Sunday. He wants to look for his parents.”

 “That old tune?” Taako looked over his shoulder. Lup met his gaze with a knowing look, exhaling through her nose loudly in a tone of both exasperation and amusement.

 “Yeah, but I love him, and sometimes you do silly things for the people you love.” Yeah, Taako thought, but that “silly thing” was just plain ludicrous, like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

 Barry had developed a penchant in recent days for locating his lost parents. After the Story and the Song, memories of the old days came back for everyone, and the ones which had always stuck with Barry most poignantly were those of his childhood. He presumed that his parents had died long ago, but had no real evidence of that occurring, and his research as a lich seemed to support that. His parents’ names weren’t in the annals of the Astral Plane, but then again, they weren’t originally from this planar system. None of the Birds were. Following the breadcrumbs back to another plane of existence wasn’t exactly a simple task, even for liches, even when there are breadcrumbs to follow. Barry and Lup weren’t even sure where to start in looking for a way to travel back to where Barry was originally from, and how they could get back to their current planar system once they were finished, if such a thing were even possible without complex machinery like the Starblaster. Barry spent many of his days off from work studying planar magic and trying to put pieces of fragmented memories back together as best he could to provide some sort of sign or indication of where to go. So far, his labor had been fruitless, but Lup, as loyal and supportive a partner as she was a sister, was there beside him through every step of the way, poring over books about interplanar travel and the afterlife and keeping Barry’s coffee cup ever-full.

 Lup shrugged her shoulders, knowing that despite all she shared with her brother, he would probably never understand why she so steadfastly supported such a futile mission. “Besides, it’s Father’s Day, ya know? On Sunday.”

 Father’s Day. That’s right. Taako hadn’t known. Of course he hadn’t. Why would he? The most experience he had had with fathers in recent days was calling Kravitz “bone-daddy” in the bedroom to spice things up. He did vaguely remember Merle mentioning something about some special plans with Mookie and Mavis last week when they caught up over the Stone of Farspeech, but it wasn’t exactly a topic which occupied a lot of space and energy in Taako’s mind.

 Father’s Day…

 “Lu?”

 “Mmmm?” She had taken a ruby-encrusted compact out of the front pocket of her now-dry overalls and was inspecting her face for any evidence of her irresponsible brunch break, and possibly any signs of intoxication, before returning to work.

 Taako could almost hear himself asking it. “Are you ever sad…?” _Almost._ “Nothin’,” he said instead. She closed the clamshell up, popped the trinket back into her pocket and smiled in her brother’s direction, eyes closing tight and nose crinkling as her bony shoulders shrugged upward slightly and her head cocked in a warm, tipsy gesture.

 “I gotta run.” Taako stood up from the dining table as she did, and she took her brother into her arms. She only hugged him for a short time, but she did so with a tender energy meant to fortify her brother until they should meet again. “Write me later, 'kay?” Taako nodded against her shoulder, feeling flyaways from her silky braid brush softly against his face, familiar and comforting. “I love you, dude.” She broke away, brushing her bangs away from her eyes.

 “Ehhhh, you’re alright,” Taako gibed in his lilting voice. Lup laughed through her teeth in response before pulling his hat down over his eyes by the brim. She stuck her tongue out in an act of indignation before turning on her heels, sweeping up her crimson cloak from the coat rack by the door and gripping her scythe in her palm.

 Their next date would have to wait, then.


	2. -II-

Kravitz never knew what kind of lover he would get when he walked in the door. He could still remember the night not too long ago when the pungent scent of paint was his greeting in place of the kiss he usually received shortly after crossing the threshold. As he rounded the corner, he saw a bare-foot Taako, wearing a rolled up out-of-commission pair of Kravitz’s pinstriped trousers which he must have fished out of the very back of their closet, a t-shirt cut into a crop top (the evidence of the shirt that once had been was still lying on the kitchen counter next to the fabric scissors), and paint speckled across his face in the places where he knew freckles should have been. His boyfriend had been working all day to give their living room a fresh coat of paint somewhere in the sea foam, robin’s egg blue family, and clearly no kisses were happening that night, as Taako had not one, but two paint brushes of varying thicknesses protruding from his mouth, secured between his teeth. He had started working with the third paintbrush in his hand on an intricate fresco that would be the centerpiece of their abode for at least the next few weeks, until he got bored and decided to change things up again. Even though it was easier to use magic for these kinds of things, Taako often insisted on doing them by hand, and would spend hours doing what would only take a few seconds to conjure. That’s not what it was about, though, Kravitz had come to learn. It was as much a therapeutic process as it was an artistic endeavor, though Taako would have snorted at that notion if Kravitz ever gave it voice, and still more unmentionable was his suspicion that, even after all these years, Taako was a bit hesitant to use magic around people and places he loved, for fear that disaster would occur yet again. As the reaper wrapped his arms around the slender waist of his love from behind that night, he knew not to question the source of this sudden inspiration or interfere with Taako’s artistic process through too much canoodling. There would be time for all that later. 

A more particular lover may have been vexed by the wizard’s fickle spontaneity, but while it took a few months for Kravitz to become accustomed to Taako’s idiosyncrasies, he learned not only to tolerate but also to cherish the inconsistencies that came with loving Taako. Work as a reaper was routine at best, more often tedious, and coming home to something different every night, always a little off kilter, often a little slapdash, made Kravitz fall more and more in love with Taako where others might have found fault in his antics. There were nights where his entrance was met with the aroma of some amazing concoction that Taako had dreamed up during his afternoon nap and had to make a reality by dinnertime, nights where the wizard would barely look up from his spell book, or school paperwork, or cookbook manuscript to say a curt hello and offer a peck on the cheek; there were nights when, before Kravitz had shut the door on his way in, Taako was on his knees, unzipping his boyfriend’s pants as the reaper knotted his hand deftly into his long, blond hair, and nights where Taako wasn’t there at all—no note, no answer on the Stone of Farspeech, window open and curtain flapping about in the wind.

Those were the only kind of nights that Kravitz had a problem with. Not even the nights where Taako stumbled in drunk, heels dangling from his finger, after hanging out with former members of the IPRE without thinking to invite Death along, or the nights where all the lights in the house would be out, and there was no Taako to speak of, only an elf-shaped ball in the middle of the bed, burrowed under the covers, which could sometimes, but not always, be coaxed out with promises of peanut-butter cups and cuddles. After the third or fourth occasion of Taako completely disappearing at night without warning or explanation, Taako and Kravitz had their first big argument; Taako needed to be alone sometimes, and while Kravitz could respect that without needing explanations or apologies, what he did need was to know that Taako was safe.

Taako couldn’t understand how Kravitz could be worried about him being off by himself from time to time when he had survived for decades on his own without any debonair angels of death waltzing in to save him from unsavory situations. Kravitz couldn’t understand why Taako couldn’t just leave a brief note or give a simple one-word answer on the Stone of Farspeech just to give him peace of mind that he was still breathing. That was the only night that the Grim Reaper and Taako from TV didn't share a bed since their cohabitation had begun, and Kravitz found himself brooding on their balcony until the sun rose instead of pressing kisses into the hair and neck and ears and collarbone he worshipped.

The next night, when Kravitz walked into the kitchen after a hellish shift, during which every word and look exchanged the night before had played on repeat in his mind, he found a glossy black box with a burgundy velvet ribbon tied around it sitting on the counter. No tag, but the gift wrap choices showed him it was definitely meant for him to open. Inside was a simple gold ring, its prongs holding a round-cut garnet, and next to it was a gold bracelet containing another garnet, this one in a long emerald-cut and set in the middle of the otherwise unadorned piece of jewelry. They were understated but classic, much more his style than Taako’s. As Kravitz reached down and absentmindedly ran a finger diagonally across the ring’s deep-red stone, he saw the movement mirrored by a white glimmering streak that shot diagonally across the face of the bracelet’s gem in the exact same motion as Kravitz's finger. It mimicked a shooting star in appearance, and Taako emerged from around the corner, walking tentatively up to Kravitz. Clearly, he had been watching Kravitz the whole time from the next room, weighing the situation before deciding to make an approach.

The elf filled the spaces between the reaper’s cold, dark fingers with his own, and pressed his body into the embrace that Death offered. “The ring’s for you.” He reached over, pulling the enchanted trinket from the box and slipping it onto one of the fingers that was moments ago interwoven with his own. Then, he draped the bracelet over his own thin wrist, gesturing to Kravitz to fasten the small golden clasp, which he did with ease. “When you slide your finger across the face of one stone, it shows up on the other,” Taako said, modeling the magic for Kravitz once again, a white line crossing over Kravitz’s stone this time in response to Taako’s touch on the bracelet. “It’s a simple spell, but I thought it would be useful for when we’re apart and can’t speak to one another. When you want to know if I’m okay, just send me a shooting star, and I’ll send one back to let you know that everything is peaches and cream, babe.”

Kravitz should have laughed at that last part. He wanted to, but he kept looking down at his hand and the ring now resting on his finger. He had come to know by then that, for someone who talked as often and as openly as Taako typically did, there were still things that Taako had trouble saying, still times where being alone was not just a preference but something necessary for him to heal. For all the appearances and showmanship and pretending that everything was always perfect, brushing off problems nonchalantly as minor inconveniences, below the surface, Taako was still insecure, still frenzied, still trying to make sense of what his life had been. Though this enchantment was something one of his students could easily conjure up, the concession that Taako had given to Kravitz in creating these items was more an act of love than any sweet words he could say or grand gestures he could do. Maybe that’s why they made love right then and there in the kitchen that night; because Kravitz couldn’t help himself from basking in the sweet, warm love of his wizard for a minute longer.

It wasn’t one of those nights where he would need to use the ring to ensure Taako’s safety, though, he realized when he came in on Saturday night after an unexpected turn of events forced him to work on his day off. Saturdays were usually wholly devoted to his beloved. As much as Kravitz hated to cancel or delay his days and dates with his boyfriend, Death waited for no man, and there was a necromancer on the loose somewhere in the Prime Material plane. He had put on a vague song and dance when asking Taako if it was okay that he worked instead of spending time with him on Saturday; he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t just blowing Taako off for some lower-level hijinks, but also didn’t want his love to fret about the necromancer crossing paths with Angus, which, however unlikely, was sure to cross Taako’s mind if Kravitz were to mention what was really going on at work. He didn’t need to add any extra stress to the poor elf’s life at the moment, what with the way that he hadn’t been sleeping and seemed so lost in thought and paralyzed by stress for the past few days that it had been difficult to carry out a meaningful conversation with him for more than a few minutes. Taako let him off the hook without so much as a slap on the wrist, muttering about working on the chapter he’d missed the deadline for and catching up on sleep. So, Kravitz cupped his chin and kissed his forehead as Taako sat on the kitchen counter that morning, blankly staring straight into the mug of black coffee in his hands, before he said, “I’ll see you tonight, love.”

The coffee had been discarded at some point, left on the counter, half-empty and cold, Kravitz saw as he made his way through the kitchen, looking for Taako after he hadn’t responded to the tell-tale sounds of his entry or Kravitz calling his name. All the lights were off, but he still had the feeling that there was another presence there with him in their home. Kravitz frowned, pushing his lips to the side of his face before making his way to the bedroom, which was too dark to see if there was a Taako-shaped lump in the middle of the covers. Kravitz flicked on a nearby light to find the room lived-in that day—pillows and sheets rumpled, laundry strewn across the floor, book open on the bed—but no Taako in sight.

Kravitz looked down at the book. Another simple enchanted item that Taako had made for a loved one. He and Lup would write messages back and forth to one another, each with his or her own book, to maintain a correspondence outside of their regular visits and conversations on the Stone of Farspeech. Surprisingly, a piece of paper had been ripped out of the book and crumpled up, something Kravitz had never seen Taako do.

_ Lulu?  _ Taako had written.

_ Yes? _ The lich responded back.

Kravitz had to make a concerted effort to make out the next part, flattening out the paper in his hands and bringing it close to his face. It had been written hastily to begin with, even for Taako, and then blotted out with thick lines of ink. Squinting, Kravitz studied the very edges of the letters, which hadn’t been wholly blacked out, to decipher the message:

_ Do you ever feel sad that we never knew our parents? _

Kravitz whispered the words quietly to himself as he read them, surprised a little at the directness of his lover’s question. Of course, this wasn’t exactly a conversation he was meant to be a part of, and maybe Taako dropped the coy showboating he did for everyone else when it was just he and Lup, but it was unusual for him to not ham it up at all, but to come right out with the difficult question straight away.

So unusual, in fact, that Taako himself must have been uncomfortable with his own directness. That must have been the point where Taako had scribbled over his words and ripped the page out of the notebook. Nothing else was written on it. At the top of the next page was Lup’s message:

_????? _

Taako hadn’t responded, at least not in the notebook, and Lup’s question marks didn’t seem to be an indication of scoffing or incredulity but a marker of the confusion Taako had caused her by abruptly ending their conversation. Kravitz frowned again, unsure of the best way to proceed. This was not typical Taako behavior. Usually, on nights like this one, he had found Taako by now, suffering from some unnamed hurt, no doubt brought on by some past trauma. He knew just how to touch and kiss and hold his love on nights like those, how not to ask questions, but wrap his strong arms around him, pressing his cold skin against Taako’s. This was different, though. Yet another unexpected turn of events. Taako wasn’t in his usual spot, and the hurt had a name, leaving Kravitz with no way of knowing how to address and alleviate it. When the reaper finally took a step forward to search somewhere else, his shoe met something hard on the floor: Taako’s Stone of Farspeech. Yikes. This was not going to be an easy night.

Death finally found him, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small red flame appear from outside. As he neared the balcony, he could make out Taako’s thin frame in the darkness, legs propped up on their patio table, leaning back in his chair, exhaling white vapors from a cigarette he had just lit using prestidigitation. That wasn’t exactly new for Taako, but he wasn’t known around the Bureau as a chain-smoker, either. Kravitz remembered finding a bag of dried tobacco and rolling papers once in a drawer and holding them up to Taako with a questioning glance. “They’re for emergencies only, my man,” he answered, sheepishly shrugging away his boyfriend’s inquiry. Taako was known from time to time to march in from the moon-base pub with a pre-rolled cigarette perched behind his ear and the scent of stale tobacco clinging to his clothes, but making good use of the emergency cigarettes was not typical Taako behavior either, and an all-the-more-alarming sign that Kravitz was entering uncharted territory.

What was his best approach? Tender, but not-too-overly-concerned lover? Always a hard one for Kravitz, who wore his heart and his anxiety on his sleeve, to pull off. Playful, jokey antics? That one, while sometimes adding much-needed levity, also ran the risk of giving off the impression that he didn’t take Taako’s pain seriously. Kravitz debated as he slowly, carefully made his way to the entrance of the balcony. Taako was facing the black vista below and the night sky above, freckled with stars like the skin on his nose, his back to Kravitz. Kravitz thought a slow and quiet physical approach would be best for whatever emotional methodology he would end up choosing. The wood floor beneath him had other plans, though, as the boards squeaked mercilessly under the pressure of Kravitz’s foot just before he was about to step out of the living room and onto the balcony. Oops.

Taako undoubtedly knew Kravitz was just behind him now, but didn’t turn to offer him a weak smile, or reach a hand out to caress him, or even call out a faint greeting. Nothing. With a flick of his wrist, ash cascaded down onto the damp floor of the balcony. Kravitz bit his bottom lip, wringing his hands together and resisting the urge to crack his knuckles and wrists. It almost seemed better to leave Taako alone, although he knew that if Taako truly wanted to be by himself, he would have disappeared for the night with no hesitation. No, he definitely  _ needed  _ Kravitz tonight, but didn’t seem to  _ want _ him at all. What to do? Kravitz rubbed his thumb against the band of his garnet ring while thinking and abruptly stopped. He remembered the night that Taako had given him that well-loved gift, how it wasn’t easy for him to express all the hurt deep inside, how his silence was not coldness or indifference but inability to share the darkness plaguing him.

Kravitz ran his finger in a vertical line from bottom to top across the flat edge of his ring, stepping out fully into the cool night. Underneath the billow of smoke wisping off their balcony, he heard a brief, tight sigh escape into the air. It was only a moment before he saw Taako’s sign back, a bright, white shooting star cutting the stone on his ring right down the middle from the bottom up.  _ Everything okay?  _ Kravitz’s seemed to ask.  _ Everything okay.  _ Taako’s answered.

“Krav?” His voice was small and it crackled. More ash. More smoke.

“I’m here,” was all Kravitz could think to answer before punctuating its repetition with a touch of sweetness. “I’m here, my darling.” Kravitz saw what was left of the cigarette hurtle over the edge of the balcony and heard Taako let out a deep sigh, exhaling the smoke from his last drag into the night air. Another sound, this time a melody of ruffling fabric and the gentle creaking of furniture, met his ears as he saw Taako shift his position so that his knees were pressed up against his chest and hugged close by his arms. His toes, dark blue lacquer and sparkly golden star decals decorating their nails, were now perched on the edge of his chair.

“I love you so fucking much.” His voice was still crackling, but also wet, as it became clear to Kravitz that Taako was crying. Not hard, but there was something husky and heavy in the way he spoke that gave it all away.

Any plan of restraint or an attempt not to coddle was thrown out the window as Kravitz immediately swooped over in front of Taako, facing him. He took a knee, pushing his weight more into one leg to propel him into a small lunge. Kravitz snaked one hand behind Taako’s calf, which had been left exposed by the shorts he was wearing. He lightly stroked the soft skin and blond hair on the backside of his leg in a strange but soothing gesture, and hooked his other hand over his lover’s, his palm pressing into Taako’s and the tops of his knuckles brushing against the bottom of the elf’s knees. “Oh, my love, my love.” He kissed the edge of Taako’s wrist quickly, unable to control the outpouring of his affection. “I love you too. So much.”

They stayed like that for some time, Kravitz occasionally closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the place where Taako’s leg met his ankle, or the side of his hand, anywhere he could find that was within range. Though Taako made no sound, his stream of tears ran steadily. His eyes were gleaming from the moisture, catching flickers of the moonlight every so often, and it took everything within Kravitz not to stand up and kiss those eyelids and chase away the source of those tears.

There was no chasing it away, though. Not unless Kravitz could find a way to go back in time and change the past, which was strictly off limits for anyone aligned with the Bureau after what had happened in Refuge. That cutting sensation of futility was something new for Kravitz, too. Sure, he had been in some scrapes over the years, but as an immortal, he wasn’t used to feeling powerless, and the dense pit of helplessness lurching its way through his midsection was not comfortable, nor welcome. If only he could turn himself into a fearsome apparition and destroy this pain like he could readily strike down a necromancer or fetter an escaped soul. But, even Death had its limitations.

“Taako, please,” Kravitz finally broke the silence. “I don’t know what I can do, but say the word, and it’s done.” Taako, head pounding already from the pressure that crying had created, at last met and held his boyfriend’s gaze. Kravitz’s forehead, usually perfectly smoothed by the eternal youth that came with serving the Raven Queen, was hopelessly ridged, to the point where Taako wasn’t so sure it would return to its lovely perfectness when the knot between his eyebrows was finally soothed away. There was pain and suffering and anxiety in Kravitz’s eyes too, in his face, and Taako allowed himself to wonder how he ever could have assumed, before he had met Kravitz, that Death was cold, unfeeling and merciless.

He wanted to say, “Nothing,” again, because if he couldn’t even bring himself to speak about this with Lup, who had faced the same rejection and abandonment, then he certainly wouldn’t be able to tell Kravitz about it. Although Taako wasn’t convinced that Kravitz could alleviate any of his own pain, he knew he could still soften Kravitz’s, and no sooner did the words, “Hold me,” leave his lips than he planted his feet on the ground to move toward the reaper’s arms. Limbs weak, he stumbled into his lover’s embrace, a second later nuzzling his face into Kravitz’s neck and moistening the collar of his shirt with his tears. Maybe this wasn’t so conciliatory after all. How could he have thought that there was no help to be had, when already, he felt so much better with Kravitz’s arms cradling him? It seemed almost silly to be so upset about an absent family when he realized he had possibly the most caring being in all the planar systems he had visited as his boyfriend. There was something so comforting about the way their bodies fell together, each one’s curves and indentations complementing the other’s. Taako had noticed it the first time he had hugged Kravitz. It had still been a friend’s hug, but he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to be held by Kravitz. It was natural, simple, to be in his arms. He was safe and secure, almost like…

The thought hit like a dagger twisting in an already opened wound.  _ Like a mother and child _ . Kravitz felt Taako swallow hard and squirm in his arms. Any ease that his embrace had offered was now dashed away. A glance at the elf’s face showed it darkening. The trickle of Taako’s tears was doubling in force. His fists formed into balls. Taako was sinking deep into his thoughts, rapidly, almost out of reach.  _ Do something, quickly _ .

“Is it about what you wrote to Lup in your notebook?” That was more risky than Kravitz would have liked. He wasn’t sure how Taako would react to the knowledge that Kravitz had seen the private conversation, which was never meant to be seen at all, but he also knew that Taako, though eccentric and scatterbrained, wasn’t careless. If it were meant to be secret, he wouldn’t have left the book and its torn page out in the open. If it were meant to be secret, Kravitz wouldn’t even know that the book existed.

His inquiry worked. Taako, surprised but not bothered that Kravitz had seen it, drew himself out of his downward spiral to ground himself, at least temporarily, in the memories of the day, trying to recall the sequence of events that led to him leaving the book on the bed and seeking refuge on the balcony. Applying a fresh coat of nail polish to distract him from his task. Pacing the floor. Cleaning the bathroom. Pacing the floor. Opening the journal to a fresh page, but not writing anything. Pacing the floor. Looking out the window…

Taako nodded against Kravitz’s chest. Kravitz tilted the elf's chin up with his hand to kiss his warm cheeks, ruddy from crying. “Forgive me, love. I didn’t mean to pry.” Taako grabbed Kravitz’s hand in his and held it still to his face. The cool, clammy skin felt nice against his, which desperately needed to be calmed.

“It’s okay.” Voice a tad steadier now than it had been. “I don’t know why this is happening, Krav.” The reaper held him just a little tighter. “I don’t know why I feel this way or why I can’t ask her. I tried when she came over earlier this week, too. When I try to speak, nothing comes out.” Kravitz ran his hand through Taako’s hair, tucking some locks that had become matted to his face behind his pointed ear. “I wish I could. Damn it.” Through clenched teeth he gave voice to his frustration. “I know it would probably make all of this go away, just to share this feeling… But, I’m so... I'm so scared.”

“Scared?” Kravitz didn’t stop himself before blurting that out, but at least halted before asking what immediately came next.  _ Scared of what?  _ Not only was this display of vulnerability without any bite or play thrown into the mix something Kravitz had not seen from his beloved before, but he knew Taako to be practically fearless. Other than his insistence that they take the stairs to accommodate his mild phobia of elevators, Taako rarely showed any fear, let alone admitted it. Even when he saw Taako in the midst of the Hunger’s attack, wartorn and given every reason to feel terrified, he still wore that familiar bold, even haughty expression. Taako… scared? How?

Kravitz kept his hand held fast to his lover’s cheek, cupping his chin with the heel of his palm, gently stroking his cheekbone with his thumb and thinking. Taako was scared, that much was clear, not of something physical, but of asking Lup about her feelings toward their parents. Scared of Lup’s judgment? Impossible. When Lup looked at Taako, it was like she was seeing herself. He had never known Lup to brush her brother off or chide him, except in jest, and Lup would never have joked with her twin about an issue so serious to him. Then, what? Kravitz’s memory circled through conversations he’d had with and about Taako. Another perk of being immortal was having an impeccable memory; he remembered everything Taako had ever said to him, every tie the elf had secured around Kravitz’s neck before work, which would, without fail, end up on the floor at night, unfastened and discarded by the same hands which had straightened it that morning and had hung around his neck to deliver a goodbye kiss, every dash that mischievous elf tongue had ever made against Kravitz’s lips. His mind raced for clues, tidbits of information pulled from conversations and recollections of facial expressions, anything that could help him hold the incompatible concepts of fear and Taako in his mind at the same time.

Finally, he came across one peculiar memory, buried deep down in the annals of his mind. He and Taako were a newly minted couple, still learning about each other, and they were attending an event for the Bureau of Benevolence that night. He remembered how fucking great Taako had looked, cheekbones highlighted in a shimmering glacial hue, lips frosted with a similar icy blue shade that didn’t rub off when kissed, wearing a white, structural jacket and matching cigarette pants with dark blue stilettos, a crown of blue hydrangeas wreathing his head. Taako was schmoozing like a pro, while Kravitz remained tacit, preferring to be shown off as arm candy to all his boyfriend’s associates and let Taako do the talking. Everything was going smoothly until, a few hours in, Lucretia struck a bad chord in conversation with Taako, and the wizard stormed off, literally pulling Kravitz away with him.

“What was that?” Kravitz had asked, stumbling as Taako was still hastening away, his hand tight around the reaper's wrist.

“What do you mean, ‘What was that?’ The frigid bitch erases my memory for years and willingly withholds the fact that I have a sister from me and then thinks she can act like she single-handedly saved the whole damn world? Fat fucking chance.” Taako had pulled them away into the corridor where the restroom was to avoid making a scene, but was still fuming enough to speak more loudly than he should have. “That’s not just insulting to me, but to everyone who was on the Starblaster!”

“Taako, darlin-”

“You know what, Skellington? Save it!” Kravitz’s eyes widened at his partner’s anger. “I know what you’re about to say. I’ve heard her praises sung a thousand times before, I know all about ‘how she did what was right for the team,’ and I sure as hell don’t need to hear it from you. Now, I can play civil and dopey most nights, but that doesn’t mean I have to stand there and listen to her drivel like nothing fucking happened.” He collected himself momentarily before re-entering the party a stride’s distance away from Kravitz. When Kravitz tried to sidle up to his side again, Taako ignored his presence.

_ Let him cool off _ , he decided, and gave Taako space from then on.

Later in the evening, Taako still hadn’t apologized for his outburst and Kravitz was still on his own. The apology came much later, on their car ride home, Kravitz recalled. Now dateless and a stranger to most people at the party, Kravitz wandered around, looking for something to distract him from feeling awkward.  He looked at the informational display the Bureau had set up, detailing their newest project, an infrastructure plan that aimed to rebuild railroads destroyed by the Hunger and reunify all regions of Faerûn. This event was being held to celebrate the project’s launch and toast to its success. As he turned away, he saw the Director was at his side, also viewing the display as she took a small sip from a goblet of deep, purple wine.

“This really looks impressive, Madame Director,” Kravitz said warmly. “It’s quite amazing that the Bureau continues to do so much good in the world after already achieving so much.”

“Thank you,” she replied politely. “I trust the Raven Queen can spare you and your compatriots tonight?” Kravitz smiled, turning around to see Barry and Lup chatting up other guests near the bar.

“Somehow she’ll manage.” They turned back to the exhibit for a few moments before Kravitz continued, “Please allow me to apologize for Taako’s behavior earlier. You know him well enough by now to know that he feels things very deeply, but I know he values the work you do. I’ve heard him speak about the Bureau many times, and I can tell that it holds a significant place in his heart.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for. I hope I haven’t made things difficult for you and your date tonight.” She paused, still looking over the maps and prototypes mocked up on the display in silence for a few moments. “Yes, our Taako does feel things very deeply, doesn’t he?” Lucretia mused, her eyes turning back to Kravitz. She sounded as if she were an artist, speaking about a particularly marvelous but mysterious work of hers that no one quite understood the process behind or meaning of. “It is not easy for him to forgive or to forget, making him a difficult friend to keep. Taako has always felt things deeply -- more deeply than he lets on. He sometimes feels that he is the only person in the world who has been forced to make sacrifices, and forgets that the others dealt with the same trials, some even worse, perhaps, than he. But, it is good that he has you now, and Lup, for I think he fears experiencing things alone more than any monster he’s faced.”

Lucretia’s words hadn’t stuck with him then, but the memory was enveloped in a cloud of vague comfort despite being a somewhat unhappy one. It had been too early in their relationship for him to understand fully what she meant, but now the meaning of her words suddenly clicked into place.

_ I think he fears experiencing things alone more than any monster he’s faced. _

He wasn’t afraid of Lup’s judgment but of her indifference. If Lup didn’t hold the same regrets about their parents, then Taako would really be in that trauma alone, a fact which would make the already self-contained elf feel even more isolated. No amount of pointing out how much love for Taako there was in the world would make him feel less alone right now. What Taako needed was to know that there were other people out there who had been where he was, to reassure him that he was not the only one to go through this. He couldn’t find that comfort in Lup. Not yet, at least. Was there anyone else?

It had been nearly an hour since either of them had spoken. Kravitz still held Taako close, and some of the heat of his body had transferred to his, giving him an unfamiliar warmth. Taako, it appeared, had been similarly wrapped up in his own thoughts, but his cheeks were drier and his breathing had steadied out. “Taako?” The elf squeezed his lover’s arm lightly to let him know he was listening. “I don’t know how I can help you with this, but I want to try.” Taako nodded against Kravitz’s chest. “I don’t know what you’re going through right now, all the feelings that you have. I only know this. Sometimes it feels like no one else can possibly understand you, like you’re the only one who’s been through what you’ve suffered, who faces what you face, and to some extent, that’s true. The only person who has experienced exactly what you’ve been through is you. I know it seems easier to keep it inside than to reach out and risk discovering you really are all alone in how you feel and what you’ve lived. But, darling, this world has been through so much. It’s been torn apart time and time again and been put back together piecemeal. Everyone has suffered. You. Me. Our pain isn’t over yet, either. It never will be. Keeping it inside can only bring you more pain. No one will understand exactly what you’re feeling, what you experience; not even your twin sister can perceive everything the way you do. But, you’re not alone in feeling pain, and sharing it is one of the few ways we can learn to repair this damaged world of ours.”

Taako’s words came out fast and strung together, as if all one sentence, as hot tears fell once again from his eyes. “But, everyone else has parents! They all know where they came from, at least a little bit. Magnus, Merle, Barry, Davenport, even Lucretia! They all know something about who brought them into this world. Whether or not they got along with them or grew up with them, they existed. What do Lup and I have? An old man we called our grandpa who wouldn’t even tell us anything about where we came from. He probably didn’t even know. I don’t even know if he was our grandpa. He could have been some sicko who found us in a rubbish pile and fed and sheltered us in exchange for cheap labor. That wouldn’t surprise me at all, given some of his dubious caretaking over the years.” He swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath. As he continued, his pace slowed and his words became more precise, more deliberate. “No. The only other person who has nothing is Lup. And she’s so strong, Krav. So fucking strong. She’s been through worse hell than I have, literally. She probably doesn’t even give a fuck. No skin off her back that she knows nothing about her parents. I’m not afraid of looking weak in front of Lup. I’m not. But, if I open up to Lup about this and she truly doesn’t give a rat’s ass, it would kill me, babe. It would fucking destroy me. So, I can’t. I can’t tell her.”

“Then, start with me.”

“You?” Taako pulled away from Kravitz to make sure he hadn’t offended him with his expression of disbelief, but instead, his eyes just trailed all over his boyfriend’s face in surprise, searching for explanation in his eyebrow, his bottom lip, his eyelashes, his hairline. Taako had never heard anything at all about Kravitz’s life pre-reaper. He figured that there must have been some back story that explained how he came into the Raven Queen’s court, but he had never thought to ask. And now, so thoroughly fraught with care and tightly wound up in his own plight, he had forgotten that Kravitz had no one to call family.

It was true. Kravitz had no memory of his parents or his childhood, or anything before he came into the Raven Queen’s service. He wasn’t even sure that he had ever been a child. He might have just been conjured up one day to do the goddess’s bidding, but something within him told him that wasn’t the case, and that he had lived a life before he was an immortal which was now inaccessible to him. The notion came to him in weird, inexplicable sensations, like an aura before an episode, that couldn’t really be explained and seemed to come and go so quickly. He remembered one night when Taako lounged across the couch, scribbling down recipe ideas on a notepad propped up against his knees, while Kravitz sat on the floor below him, reading poetry from a deep purple tome. As Taako’s free hand had absentmindedly toyed with his hair from above, running his fingers through his black locks, brushing his fingertips against his scalp in places, twisting sections around his finger, a vision of a boy sitting on a red-brick stoop while a woman, perched a step or two above him, combed through his unruly hair, streaked across his mind. The pleasant feeling of having his hair gently pulled from someone above him had seemed so familiar, like it had happened before, but not for a long time. The vision was gone in an instant, not even lasting long enough for Kravitz to look at either figure’s face, but for some reason, he felt that the little boy had been him. A similar thing had happened the first time he took the train to Neverwinter with his favorite boys. He had stayed at the booth to purchase their tickets from the attendant while Taako and Angus made their way onto the platform ahead of him. Kravitz was just returning as the train pulled into the station. Watching them from behind, he saw Angus reach up for Taako’s hand as the gust generated from the train’s movement caused their hair and clothing to sail backward with the wind. He blinked, and their likenesses were replaced by a dark-skinned boy, much smaller than Angus, clinging tightly to the hand of a tall, thin man dressed in black beside him. He blinked again and it was gone, leaving only the familiar blond tresses and fancy clothing fluttering in the breeze. Though Kravitz had tried to recreate those memories countless times to get a better look at the faces, the figures, the places, they remained hazy, like they weren’t actually real or meant to be seen. He wasn’t sure where these images came from, but liked to think they were glimpses into a life he no longer knew.

“Taako, I have no parents to speak of, no childhood, no blood ties. I just have you.” Taako took Kravitz’s face in between his hands and kissed him, a wild, tearful kiss, but one that felt so right.

“I love you so much, babe.”


	3. -III-

When Taako awoke in the morning, Kravitz’s eyes were already open and looking into his. His striking red eyes were weary, tired even, which was almost an accomplishment for a deathless being who didn’t really need to sleep. The furrowing of his brows and the lines of anxiety that plagued his forehead the night before were not wholly gone, but had softened. Taako’s own lids were still heavy, begging for another hour or two of rest, but his mouth was dry enough that he wanted to get out of bed, at least to fetch a drink of water. He must have slept with his mouth open all night; his nose was still fairly congested from the what now seemed like boundless weeping that had occurred. He blinked a few times, trying to remember what had happened the night before. There was crying, crying, and, oh right, more crying, but Taako didn’t feel very embarrassed about it. He didn’t feel much of anything at the moment, like his entire emotional system had been flushed away in a deluge. It was an emptiness he was not accustomed to, but the nothingness was also an improvement upon what his emotional state had been like as of late, he supposed. What after the tears? Talking. A long time talking, and holding, and occasionally kissing, on their floor of their balcony, and he remembered the cooler night air beginning to nip his skin toward the end of their conversation. Kravitz’s external temperature had started lowering as Taako’s face had lost some of its flush. With each minute that passed, he had felt himself letting go of his deep, deep sorrow a little more, honing in on the words coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth, focusing on the rich quality that was woven into everything Kravitz said, anchoring himself on his deep, soothing voice. He remembered that at some point, Kravitz had picked him up in that same embrace they had held all night, Taako’s arms swung around his neck and legs draped over the side of his arms. He remembered lying on the bed, just like they were now, face-to-face, breathing slowly, before the oblivion of sleep took its hold on Taako. 

He was grateful he hadn’t remembered any of his dreams that night. He was grateful now, too, to see that same beautiful figure laying next to him who had been the last thing he had seen before he fell asleep. He loved him so much, loved how in the pale morning light, the golden cuffs enclosed around his locks seemed to twinkle, loved that he had pulled the sheets up over Taako’s shoulders before he had drifted to sleep, loved that before he, himself was even awake, he was the central focus of his boyfriend’s thoughts. There was so much to love.

“What time is it?” Taako’s voice was all fry, caught in his throat from disuse and hoarse from last night.

“It’s still early, love,” Taako’s heart swelled at his endearment. He loved how he peppered in words like “love” and “darling” into his phrases. They were so much more traditional than Taako’s “babe,” but fitting to his mien. He scooted close enough to kiss Kravitz fully on the lips before resting his forehead against the reaper’s, his eyes still shut. “But, our boy is going to call soon. Maybe after that, we can go back to sleep.” Taako hummed in assent. Despite the deadline he had missed and obligations he had shirked, he felt that he still wasn’t going to be of much use that day.

Kravitz closed the space between their lips again, happy that Taako returned his kisses with something akin to his usual fervor, and that he was initiating them at all. Taako was more himself today. An exhausted, shrunken version of himself, but still Taako. There would be no threat of him slinking off in the night or hiding somewhere for hours on end. Kravitz could tell. It was like their conversation had flipped a switch, and Taako, who had been sitting in a dark room for hours, was still adjusting to the brightness of the lights that opening up to Kravitz had produced. Death had succeeded, at least a little bit, in digging Taako out from being buried deep within himself, where the worst damage was usually done.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” the elf answered. Kravitz pulled away, placing his palms on the bed to begin rising before Taako caught his cool wrist in his hand. “Not yet, though. I want to be near you a little while longer.” They shifted position so that Taako’s head rested in the curve of Kravitz’s neck, his arm stretched across the reaper’s torso to trace over his collarbone with his fingers.

They never got their coffee, for a few minutes later, Taako could feel a magical aura arise in the room. He glanced over at the bedside table, and saw his Stone of Farspeech, which Kravitz must have picked up from the floor and dropped safely onto the surface last night. The enchantment on it had been activated, and Taako turned over to face the table, propping himself up on one elbow to be able to reach the stone amulet. Taako attuned the stone quickly as Kravitz sat up, leaning his back against the headboard, and the couple heard a familiar voice peal out, “Hello, sir.”

“Hey, Ango, it’s been a minute,” Taako said, his voice still noticeably rough. He, too, was now sitting, cross-legged on their bedsheets.

“Oh gosh, sir, are you sick?” Angus asked. Taako reached for Kravitz with his free hand, while he fiddled with the stone in the other. Kravitz took the elf’s hand in his and squeezed it, a tiny touch of reassurance.

“No, no. Don’t worry about me, Sherlock. Everything’s fine. Tell us about what’s been going on with you! Are you the big man on campus now or what?”

“Is Mr. Kravitz there too?” They both turned to one another and snuck out a laugh at the boy’s formality.

“I’m here, Angus. And you don’t have to call me Mr. Kravitz. Just Kravitz is fine.”

“Okay, Mr. Kravitz. I’m so glad you’re both there together because I have so much to tell you about this mission. It’s like a real adventure and everything!”

The mission was complex, but not especially dangerous, Taako was relieved to find out from Angus’s report. Davenport was doing routine maintenance on the Starblaster when he realized one of the essential parts of the ship had fallen into disrepair.

“Captain Davenport said the part was still useable, but it would be risky to take off with the piece in such bad shape. So, our job was to help him find what he needed to repair the part.”

“What was that?” Kravitz asked, sliding across the bed to get closer to Taako without letting go of his hand.

“Well, luckily the materials are commonly found all over Faerûn, in scrap piles and metal shops. That part was easy. The problem was, it had been so long since Captain Davenport had worked on this specific part that he didn’t really remember how exactly to go about repairing and replacing it. He needed certain mathematical formulae to figure out the exact proportions and most of those initial calculations are from the planar system that you all first came from, sir. But we got lucky again because Captain Davenport had done some research and found out that there was a group of ancient mathematicians who had worked on the same types of calculations that Davenport needed. They had written them down in sacred texts long ago, but those formulae can now be found over in the Fern Forest.”

“The Fern Forest? Who would have thought you could find anything of value in a dirty shithole like that?” Taako asked. Kravitz frowned a little at the foul language Taako had used in front of the boy, but shrugged it off, knowing that Angus had heard much worse, especially after a mission with Magnus and Davenport.

Davenport’s choice of crew was beginning to make a little more sense, now. The Fern Forest was on the far reaches of their continent. A boggy, backwoods type of region, it wasn’t a place Taako had ever been to or honestly cared to visit. It was common knowledge that the forest was home to all types and assemblages of creatures: bullywug brigades, kobold clans, goblin gangs, the list went on. Each race was its own faction in an ongoing brawl across the territory, and even within those groups, there were divisions and subdivisions. The inhabitants of the Forest were constantly forming and breaking alliances and pacts in their never-ending game of war. They weren’t particularly dangerous, armed only with slings and home-made bows and arrows, but the entire region was a clusterfuck, and rumbles were known to get hairy every once in a while. Magnus was the insurance in case anything went awry. It was good to have a rough boi on call in a place as chaotic as the Forest, and he was damn intimidating to boot, the perfect type to have around when dealing with petty gang conflicts. Angus was there to keep track of all the various connections and rivalries, no easy task when two clans that had been working together in the morning could draw swords on each other in the afternoon. That’s why Davenport needed the world’s greatest detective to keep things straight. Plus, the little man was not bad with a wand in a sticky situation, either, Taako was proud to point out.

Kravitz and Taako tried their best to follow along as Angus laid out the various tribes and their connections through the Stone of Farspeech, but Taako was more intrigued by the fire in Angus’s voice when he spoke about his adventure than any lineage of Forest critters. As he summarized each twist and turn, his voice rose in excitement, and Taako could just picture the boy, dark eyes shining, hands flinging through the air with all kinds of gestures. He smiled. Angus’s happiness was infectious. He could feel himself being filled up with the child’s bubbling energy, and while it wasn’t enough to cure him of last night’s woes, it did serve to anchor him, like Kravitz’s deep, resonant voice had last night.

“On that first night, Uncle Magnus let me sleep next to Steven because I was feeling a little scared to be on my first mission. But, after we made friends with the Glung and the other goblins, I felt much better.”

Taako continued to smile as Angus detailed the thrilling climax. Through their newfound friendship with the goblins, they had been able to take advantage of a marriage celebration, an unusual union between a kobold girl and a goblin man that was meant to cement a recent alliance. During the afterparty, they were able to talk to the high priests of the kobold clan, whose temple housed the ancient documents that the adventuring group sought.

“We didn’t even have to fight, sirs. The priests took us to the temple and let Captain Davenport copy what he needed from the sacred texts onto his scrolls. It turns out the Forest kobolds forgot how to read generations ago, so the scriptures are functionally useless to them. The kobolds protect them more for tradition’s sake than for guarding secrets.” Angus was loath to take credit for the success of diplomacy during the mission, which was so out of the style of Taako’s own adventuring team that he had to laugh, and make a mental note to get Magnus’s take on the mission the next time they spoke. Taako knew better than to buy Angus’s humility, though. The kid had charm like no other, and he didn’t even have to use a spell to achieve it.

“You done good, Ango,” he said, holding the stone to his heart without thinking. “I’m really proud of you. You got through a mission without maiming or killing anybody, and that’s something I’ve never done. I’m sure Magnus is beside himself.”

“He sure was sad that he didn’t get to use that big axe of his, except to chop down a tree for firewood. But, I think he was glad too, that we figured it out without hurting anyone. We’re taking Uncle Magnus back home today and then I’m going to help Captain Davenport track down the materials he needs for phase two.”

At that point, Kravitz leaned over and kissed the skin in front of Taako’s ear before whispering, “I’m going to go make that coffee now.” Taako squeezed his hand.

“‘Kay, babe.” His other hand still held the stone close against his breast as he watched Kravitz head toward the kitchen. “Be careful out there, Angus. Remember what I’ve taught you. We need you coming home in one piece. We’re a strict no-necromancy household.”

“Oh, I know, sir. I’m always very careful. And I know a lot of new magic now! I can’t wait to come home and show you and Mr. Kravitz all the spells I learned since the winter. I even tried some out on Magnus while we were in the Forest. He didn’t like it when I used unseen servant to steal his clothes while he was taking a bath in the stream.” Taako chuckled.

“Top knotch prank, little man. I’ll have to write that one down.”

“Thank you, sir.” A few beats of silence fell into the conversation there as it took a natural pause. “Are you still there, sir?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Captain Davenport wants us to get moving soon, but before I go, I wanted to say…” his voice trailed off a little. “Happy Father’s Day, sir.” Taako’s eyes closed and rolled up toward his head when he heard the boy’s words. He gripped the stone so tightly, he was afraid it might break.

“Thanks, kid.” Taako didn’t know how he managed to get that out, or for that matter how the next words left his lips: “I love you.” His eyes were still tightly pressed together, toes curled towards the undersides of his feet.

“I love you, too, sir.”

“Get home, safe, Agnes.”

“I will. Good bye!”

“Bye.” The enchantment on the stone was deactivated, but Taako held onto it still, like his whole life depended on clutching that stone. His whole body felt clenched as he brought the stone to his lips and held it against them, letting out a deep sigh.

“Did I miss saying goodbye?” Kravitz asked when he returned with two mugs of coffee a few seconds later. The pleasant aroma quickly took over the room and Taako began to unwind himself, bringing the stone to his heart again as he looked up at Kravitz.

“Yeah,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry, babe.” Taako knew he had to let go of the stone now, but he wasn’t quite ready yet. He wove the leather cord that the stone hung from between his fingers so that it could still dangle and knock against his forearm as he reached out to take a mug of black coffee from his boyfriend, who then sat on the edge of the bed with an identical, steaming mug.

“It’s nothing, love. I’m just glad that we got to talk to him. Glad that he’s safe.” Taako looked down into his coffee at his own warped reflection.

“Me too,” he said, his voice still small, but more pensive now than melancholy. Kravitz reached over to touch Taako’s leg reassuringly, then caressed it tenderly. Taako looked up at his boyfriend, so loving in his touch, so beautiful as he slouched over a cup of coffee, so unwavering in his support, so fucking perfect. Even though he felt like he wanted to cry, for some reason, he smiled instead.

“Our boy is so good, isn’t he?” Kravitz’s hand returned to his mug as he tipped it up to take a small sip. This astonishing being sitting beside him didn’t have parents. Neither did that little boy who was already kicking so much ass out there in the world. And, neither did he. Yet, they had all somehow still found one another, and maybe that was how they were rebuilding the world that the Hunger had torn apart.

“He really is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first TAZ fanfic, my first Taakitz fanfic, my first AO3 fanfic and the first fanfic I've written in literal years, so I would very much appreciate any comments on this, which hopefully didn't go too far off the rails!


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